Munch time.
I consider myself a grazer. I am not one for huge meals where you sit down and eat until you can't move... alright maybe occasionally, but on a day-to-day basis, snack time, all of the time.
As I sit here, only long enough to begin a post, I'm sharing half a bag of Newman's Own All Natural popcorn with my own personal editor, Lucy. Even though she only has known the world barely over a year, she really knows how to write. If I write the wrong thing, she corrects me by ferociously bashing the keyboard with her palms, or in this case, with a teabag she has fished out of an empty mug. This keyboard's days are numbered.
I know I'll only be able to sit here until the popcorn gets boring, or spread all over the floor. But for the moment sitting is wonderful.
It is hard to wrap my mind around the difference between my life before I had Lucy and now.
My practically started over on a new planet.
I have never felt more clueless than when I left the hospital and brought my 8 pound 7.8 ounce bundle of joy into my home. Totally overwhelmed that her little self, her health, her happiness, her safety now totally relied upon no one else but Ryan and I. Ryan was, or at least seemed, comfortable and a natural about the whole thing. I mean, Ryan is as cool as a cucumber and in the years I have known him, I've never seen him legitimately flustered at anything. Not only did he have that going for him, but he has three young nephews that were 2, 4 and 5 at the time.No one in my immediate or even distant family has had a child in a long time. On my father's side, my youngest cousin was 17 years old.On my mother's side, at the age of 19, my sister was the youngest. None of my siters or cousins, none of my friends or even anyone I saw on a regular basis had any children close to new born. It was a realm I had no recent experience in. Being responsible for a completely helpless life was (and by was I mean is) entirely terrifying.
And it was a rough start for us. Even though I took the breastfeeding class, it just wasn't working. It was the day after we brought her home, we were up all night just trying to get anything right, and we were without any luck. Lucy was insatiably crying and not sleeping for more than a half hour at a time and I was so sore it was comparable to natural child birth. The next morning, we returned frantically back to the hospital because Lucy hadn't gone to the bathroom in over 12 hours. Lucy had been in my life only a few days and I was a complete wreck with worry for her. Shortly after our arrival, they took all of Lucy's vitals and weighed her. She had lost over a pound. We were admitted and they kept us at the hospital for three days. In those days, Lucy was administered two rounds of IV fluids and I became acquainted with a breast pump. I was also given some confidence with some extra help from nurses and slowly began feeling comfortable about the tremendous responsibilities as a mom. But seriously. Talk about a traumatizing beginning.
Our first month was insane and consisted of more than a handful of doctor visits, another overnight hospital stay, a bout of mastitis, and of course sleep deprivation. Even through all of that, I wouldn't have traded it for my old life, or a life without Lucy.
Now, my life revolves around her.
I take better care of myself because she needs me here and I want her to grow up healthy. I am so thankful for the strength she gave me to take the initiative to live better in general. I've learned how to cook. I used to only know how to operate the microwave. I've jogged over 14 miles when I used to barely finish one. I look out for myself and I look out for her.
And I'm finally learning how to care more for my own little family. Unfortunately sometimes that means making great sacrifices for the happiness of everyone else around me. Being a people pleaser, it has not been an easy thing but no matter how wrong or selfish it feels, it's Lucy that really matters the most.
My game has been completely changed. It has not been easy, but it has been wonderful. It is for the absolute best.
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